


Adjusting

by HouseElfMagic



Series: Winteriron: James [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, M/M, old fic that i'm finally posting, pre-slash ironwinter, winteriron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 06:49:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseElfMagic/pseuds/HouseElfMagic
Summary: Experiences change a person. Bucky knows this most of all. To his surprise, it seems Steve didn't quite get the memo, but a certain genius billionaire playboy philanthropist did.





	Adjusting

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic that I finally posted... if someone wants to take the idea and run with it, be my guest

Experiences change a person. Bucky knows this most of all. To his surprise, it seems Steve didn't quite get the memo, but a certain genius billionaire playboy philanthropist did.

 

 

James Buchanan Barnes was dead, the Winter Soldier decided. Captain America "Steve" had found him and removed him from HYDRA's influence hardly a week ago after he started deviating from mission parameters and had images appear in his mind. "Memories" he was told, but there was nothing before the Winter Soldier so that couldn't be true.

Besides, the Steve of his memories did not match this new version and apparently it had been several decades in which neither of them had aged in any significant manner.

When Steve (Stevie) found him, he was being prepped for recalibration, since they'd not managed to wipe him for several days after they'd relocated him. Captain America had shown up just in time to prevent the wipe so the Winter Soldier kept his knowledge of the last three weeks. The supposed rescue wasn't much: Captain and Falcon had swooped in and taken out the handlers and few medical personnel in charge of him. They'd said he was "free."

Then they'd taken him to SHIELD which, though different in multiple aspects to HYDRA, rankled. He was put through dozens and dozens of medical tests and psychological exams and never got a damn moment of privacy; it felt like he'd switched the rock for a hard place. He felt trapped still, despite the Captain's assurances that he was "safe now" and "Bucky, everything'll be okay. You'll remember everything soon, don't you worry." He wondered if this Bucky person had been as naive as Steve.

 

After eight days at SHIELD in a hospital bed and then a "Hulk-proofed" room (whatever that meant), Steve came to his room crying. He had a half-second in which he wanted to reach forward and comfort the man, but it felt more out of habit than an emotional response. He quickly got over the glitch and focused back on Steve's moving mouth.

"-'re free to go! Of course, you're under a type of house arrest for the trial period, but Phil assured me that's just for legality. Oh, we're taking you to the Tower-"

The Winter Soldier had a sudden thought that the tears were brought out of happiness rather than sadness. Huh, he had no idea that was possible. People are so complicated.

"-it. Thor's not there at the moment, since he's visiting Asgard,"- is that somewhere in Europe?- "but Clint will be there. You'll like him; he's pretty swell and makes a lot of jokes. He was kinda brainwashed too. Natasha's a fine dame and'll be there too. You, uh-" he faltered. "You actually shot her once."

Oh.

Steve seemed to catch himself.

"And Bruce will be there too. He's pretty laid back unless you make him mad. I'm working on making Sam official, but Tony's allowing him to stay in the tower while he's moving houses to be a bit closer. Oh." His expression turned sour.

"Tony's the guy that owns the Tower." The Winter Soldier wondered who managed to get underneath Steve's skin; it seemed like nothing got to him 'cept Bucky.

Maybe he should start calling himself Bucky like those weird brain doctors suggested, if they were really one in the same, but Bucky had a connotation with it and the Winter Soldier was not that man.

Not anymore, anyhow.

 

The Tower had to touch the clouds, was his first thought. The lit A on the side only seemed to emphasize the hugeness of the place. By the time they were past the front door, he felt very small and very dumb, looking at all the gadgets functioning around him.

The walk to the elevator was blessedly short and Steve kept chattering away while he made a mental map of the building, all the entrances and exits, and catalogued all the possible items he could use as a weapon in the case of an emergency. By the time he fully pulled himself back to Steve's voice, the elevator had carried them up those final floors and another voice called out, "Welcome back, Captain Rogers and welcome to the Avenger's Tower, Sergeant Barnes." He glanced around quickly as the elevator opened, but could find no source of the voice. It was as if the voice was in the room with them, a British accent highlighting the words, but he couldn't make out its source. Steve, noticing his confusion and alertness was quick to explain, though seemed unaware of the knife he'd knicked from SHIELD that he'd reached for.

"That's JARVIS. He's something called an AI which is like a really really smart computer. He doesn't have a body, but if you're in the Tower, he'll help you whenever you ask."

"My apologies for frightening you, Mr. Barnes. Such was not my intention. This floor is to be yours since Sir believed you may wish to have your own. You'll find the communal floor two levels above here, Captain Roger's floor five below. Any questions you have, you may simply ask and I'll help you in any way in which I can." He wasn't sure how a computer could possibly do that, if it was in real time and not reading out some sort of script, but he was at least glad to have the information.

"Thank you, JARVIS." Steve said, turning to show him his new living quarters. The casualness Steve showed itched at his skin; he felt like this man was invading every nook and cranny he was simultaneously providing, and he really just wanted a moment to assess his situation.

"Captain Rogers," the voice from before chimed in a moment later. "If I may, my calculations suggest that Mr. Barnes would feel most at home should he be provided suitable time to adjust and ask questions without interference. Mrs. Romanova has requested your presence on the communal floor." Steve looked quite visibly torn, but eventually acquiesced as he made a calculated glance toward the bedroom. Steve walked to the elevator again, mumbling apologies and promises to return soon, but he still felt like a caged animal until he could hear the elevator carrying his (friend) (handler) guide up the shaft.

"Thank you... JARVIS."

"Of course, Mr. Barnes."

"Don't- don't call me that. Please." He added as an afterthought. JARVIS paused a moment.

"What would you prefer to be called, Sir?" And that was the question indeed. He could say "Bucky" and try to convince himself he was the man Steve had known. He could say the "Winter Soldier" and fully accept the identity HYDRA had provided him.

But he didn't want either. He wanted to start fresh, at least in this small way. He wanted to take back himself and forge his own identity, independent of Steve or HYDRA.

"James." He called, glancing slightly toward the ceiling so as to direct the word. He was not who Steve or HYDRA made him out to be: he was James.

 

James, for he would accept this identity as his own, explored every inch of his new living space. It was spacious, too much so, but it was not overly technological nor was it straight from the 40's. There was a bedroom, a bathroom, a small gym, a kitchenette, a laundry/clothes closet, and a large empty room with a sticky note on the door.

'Wasn't sure what you wanted. If you think of something you'd like for your rooms, let JARVIS know. Oh, and so long as you aren't carrying anything illegal, you can keep whatever weapons you want with you in the tower.

-T Stark'

James wasn't sure what to make of the whole situation, but the bed looked soft and he wasn't used to going this long out of cryosleep. The exhaustion of the past several weeks weighed on his limbs like physical barbells and he gladly laid on the bed without pulling the sheets down and fell into a heavy slumber, confident that his senses would alert him to any threat.

 

James woke from his nightmare with a jolt. A soothing British voice called out to him from a distance, repeating his name, the date, their location, and that he was safe now on loop. He didn't enjoy the empty platitudes, but he felt calmer than before, so he supposed he could concede the point for now.

He wondered how a computer could sound so worried and wondered if Steve was very inaccurately assuming the nature of the AI.

Apparently he'd slept far longer than intended and it was approximately 3 a.m. James felt suddenly very aware of himself and only years of training kept him from curling into himself slightly. He took a moment to contemplate what next to do: he couldn't go back to sleep (he'd been pushing the no-nightmare thing too long anyway), Steve was probably asleep (which was good, only he was now very bored which he wasn't used to), and James had no mission. He felt adrift, lost, without purpose. He needed something to do--and apparently catching up on missed culture/tech/music/etc was it.

"JARVIS?..."

"Yes, Mr. James?"

"Just James."

"As you wish... James. What was your purpose for calling?"

"I... Wanted-" (what a foreign thought: to want, to do for the sake of doing, to consider something for himself) "-wanted to catch up on what I missed."

"Sir has compiled a file for Mr. Rogers on the last 70 years. Do you wish to access the file?"

"Yes... Please."

"Very well, sir. If you would move to the table on your left? Where would you like to begin?"

"What happened after the war?"

 

When Tony finally looked up from Natasha's new heel knife, he found the coffee maker woefully out of beans and his last coffee cup empty (and dry/crusted with a dab of oil on the right side, but that was neither here nor there). Genius that he was, deciding to go up to the communal floor to sneak a bag of Clint's extra-coffee coffee was a no-brainer. He glanced at the clock--3:00, huh. Maybe he hadn’t been working for as long as he thought... unless it was already Tuesday and 3 in the morning...

“J, what day is it?”

“Tuesday, January 8th, 2006, sir.”

“Damn. Prep me an elevator, will you, honeybunch?”

A ding was his reply. Tony looked at his work desk and saw three coffee cups--but frankly none of them looked really safe to drink from. He’d get a mug from the kitchen.

“Save data collection process. Send anything relevant to my phone, J; you know the drill.”

“Of course, Sir. Might I suggest getting some rest?”

“Maybe after this next cup of coffee.” Tony said noncommittally. Tony was sure that if he’d been able, Jarvis would have sighed.

“Yes, Sir.” Tony stepped in the elevator as soon as it opened.

“Take me to the kitchen, J. Where’s Barton’s hiding spot this time?”

“I believe you will find that Mr. Barton has placed his Don’t-Even-Think-About-It-Stark coffee just inside the ventilation system’s grate above the counter on the east side of the room.”

“Thanks, J. You’re the best.”

“I believe you mean ‘an enabler.’”

“That too, gummy bear.” Tony replied cheekily with a wink. A soft ding alerted Tony that he had reached the kitchen and he took three steps out of the elevator before he paused.

There was a man in his kitchen. Staring contemplatively at a bowl of cookie dough Ben & Jerry’s. What.

The man appeared lost in thought and Tony remembered--oh yeah, Steve’s guest. Bucky Barnes, from the comic books, but post-mind control.

Tony barely dared to move, afraid of startling his guest. He angled his face discreetly to one of Jarvis’s cameras and mouthed ‘Jarvis, please alert our guest to the intrusion.’ A mere few seconds later--Jarvis must be getting slow--J’s voice came over the speakers.

“James, I do not wish to startle you, but I’m afraid you have a guest.” James--not Bucky?--startled nonetheless and flipped the metal spoon in his hand to act as a pseudo-stabbing device.

Tony raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t move until James had collected himself enough to be less visibly tense. Not wanting things to be more awkward, Tony quickly ended the excruciating silence.

“So you must be the elusive James?” Tony questioned, taking the name cue from Jarvis.

“And you must be the elusive Stark?” James snarked back. He looked surprised at himself and turned back to his ice cream, head facing the table as if he saw the meaning of the universe written in the grain of the wood.

“You do realize that you have to actually open the container before you can eat the ice cream, right?” James nodded mechanically. Tony abandoned his plan for coffee temporarily in favor of getting out two bowls and a spoon.

Slowly, he moved toward the table where James was sitting.

“Got room for one more?” James looked up briefly, but didn’t say anything before his head nodded back toward the table, still studying the wood silently. Well, Tony was good at filling silences.

“You have good taste. You picked the best flavor. Did you steal if from Clint? Because kudos to you if you did.” Tony tried to keep glancing over for eye contact as he slowly moved the carton towards himself to open the top.

“I actually came up here to steal bird-brain’s coffee. I keep running out, but his special secret recipe stuff is the best there is when you’re in need of a fast caffeine fix.” He scooped some ice cream into his own bowl before scooping some into a bowl for James. He carefully reapplied the lid and looked back at James’s eyes.

“I still don’t know where he gets it. I think he gets a kick out of pulling a super-spy on me so I can’t find where he buys the stuff just to fuck with me. Which is just rude because I practically exist off of coffee and Legolas knows it.”

“ _Lord of the Rings_.” Tony’s face goes shocked for a moment before a smile breaks out.

“Oh I think I’m gonna like you. Have you seen the movies yet? Read the books? Because I can tell you right now that those are two different experiences and you need to have both. I think it’s on Steve’s to-watch list; I can make sure to put a note for you to see if too.” Tony took a second to shove a bit of cookie dough goodness in his mouth before beginning again.

“I mean I don’t know how well caught up you are yet on modern pop culture. I’m assuming J caught you up on history, but living in NYC, you’re not gonna be able to escape pop culture references. Steve never gets the references of course, but I think part of that is him playing us by pretending to be all confused.” Tony watched as James slowly placed a small bit of the ice cream in his bowl onto the spoon and gently raised it toward his face. He took a brief sniff of the substance before delicately placing it in his mouth. He blinked a few times before eating a little more off the spoon and going for another spoonful soon after.

“He does that sometimes. His little golden retriever ‘aw shucks’ thing. I think he’s a little troll, personally--”

Tony figured that might have been the best first meeting he’d managed in ages. Score.

 

It was nice. Because Stark--”call me Tony”--didn’t seem to have any expectations. He just... talked and didn’t need James to contribute. He filled unpleasant silences when the two met in wandering the halls at night through mutual insomnia or Stark’s ridiculous work schedule. James figured they met too often to be coincidental, especially when he was having a bad day, and suspected Jarvis’s intervention, but he didn’t mind the company.

Stark was all too happy to ramble about all sorts of things from neuroscience’s relation to music to the development of reality television. Stark--Tony--only ever knew James, not Bucky or the Soldier, though both personalities shined through sometimes. It was something of a safe haven, from Steve’s expectations and Bruce’s pity or Clint’s wariness or Natasha’s gaze or--

It was just nice. And when James was still trying to figure out what it meant to _be_ James, Tony was there to help, offering advice, directing him to resources, queuing up a movie, or just filling the silence.

James... enjoyed St--Tony’s presence. It was... nice.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment
> 
> Bonus: now with a part 2!


End file.
